Another fine restaurant I went to in Las Vegas was called Rare 120 Degrees. This restaurant was off the strip at the Hard Rock Cafe, but was a perfect place to stop before seeing Santana there. We had a reservation and got in instantly. It was a good thing we had that reservation, too, because no more than fifteen minutes later, the place got packed. Before I even saw the menu, I heard classic 80s music and one of the greatest movies of all time, Better Off Dead, starring John Cusack, was projected onto one of the walls. I knew I had come to a great place.
As a break from watching horse racing and football at the Caesar’s Palace Casino in Las Vegas, we walked right next to the sports book and into the Mesa Grill. The place is pretty well-known for being Bobby Flay’s restaurant and I guess Bobby Flay is some sort of a big deal because of his Iron Chef work and such, but I still get him confused with Michael Flatley of Riverdance fame. Confusion or no, I had heard great things about the Mesa Burger and zoned in on that when I got my menu.
I was actually a little disappointed by the list of toppings. Horseradish mustard sounded like a bad vegetable concoction, while grilled Vidalia onions made it sound even worse. The redeeming quality of the burger was the double cheddar cheese, so I still ordered the burger with the cheese on it. I told the waiter that I was ordering my burger strangely and he replied that it wasn’t strange at all. This friendliness in an anti-unvegan world showed me that even unvegans are welcomed with open arms in Las Vegas. I ordered the burger cooked medium and he told me they served a very liberal medium, meaning my burger would be quite pink. This was just fine by me.
As the night of the glorious buffet wound down, I incomprehensibly became hungry yet again. Perhaps that was because it was 4 am, or perhaps it was because I’m a fatty. Either way, I got it into my head that I only wanted Hooter’s wings (which were on special after midnight for only 25 cents a wing) or another buffet. Ridiculous as it seems, these were my only culinary desires in my late-night state. Unfortunately, despite my expert debate skills, I was unable to convince my friends to take me or accompany me.
Instead, we ended up back at our hotel, The Sahara, at a sad little 24-hour diner called The Caravan Cafe. While complaining about the lack of buffet/Hooter’s wings and how I refused to eat anything but, I was finally coerced into ordering the chicken strips.
To this little unvegan, few things are more incredible than a buffet. Where else can a man choose from such a vast collection of meat products? Whoa, are there vegetables in the general vicinity of this chicken dish? Too bad, I guess I’ll just move on to the next one. A buffet is a place of choice and almost literally a microcosm of the fulfillment of the American Dream.
As the dream goes, there is no greater collection of delicious buffets than in Las Vegas. It’s no stretch to think of Vegas as the buffet Mecca, and the Kaaba in this Mecca must surely be Rio’s Carnival World Buffet.
When I was seated, I didn’t even take the time to sit down, as I just threw my jacket on my seat to begin my feast.
Round 1: Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese and a meatball.
Round 1
There was no need to take it slowly. It is a fact that it takes twenty minutes for the mind to realize that the stomach is full, so I had to get as much food as I could before my crazy stomach decided it was full. Since I had been drinking all day, I went straight for the fried food. The fried chicken was a good heavy hitter to coat my stomach. The mashed potatoes were great as a side, featuring a healthy amount of butter and even some cheese. The single meatball stood strong for a loner, while the only disappointment was the mac and cheese, which needed a lot of salt and loving.
